


No True Slytherin

by Night-Mare (Aoife)



Series: RarePairWeek - 1859 [5]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Mist Hayato (Reborn!), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 01:09:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15401637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Night-Mare
Summary: For the Mist Day of KHR RarePairWeekNo Mist in their right mindsadmitsthat they are a Mist to anyonebuttheir Sky.





	No True Slytherin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sanjuno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanjuno/gifts).



There was a reason he didn't announce that he was a Mist, but his primary Flame should have been fairly obvious, given that Shamal was his mentor. (Of course people's delusions were aided by the fact that prior to becoming well-known as a doctor, Shamal had caused absolute mayhem as a hitman specialising in explosives, and that, alongside a tiny illusion the older Mist's had paid to have applied to him by Mammon had most people thinking he was a Storm like his sister). The deception still thoroughly amused him, and led to some very comical situations from his point of view; that included his current situation. Apparently he'd been entirely successful in concealing his actual flame type from  _two_  Arcobaleno of all people, both of who were treating him as a volatile Storm, a ticking time bomb waiting to detonate, rather than as a mischievous Mist, and he'd even managed to conceal Reborn's coffee without subsequently perishing for it.

The deception was about to come back to bite him in the ass, though; the Cloudy bastard that made the school his territory had been eyeing him thoughtfully for the last few days. He reflexively checked that the illusion that hid any Misty Flames that 'leaked' still held and then flinched as Hibari Kyoya's eyes went bright, solid purple and the Prefect's tonfa slipped into his hands. Most of the students scattered, sensibly terrified, but he was trapped, and he scowled. One no more trapped a Mist than caged a Cloud, and he  _refused_  to just submit.

"Mist." the single word was hissed and he threw himself back, away from the blunt weapons the Cloud - definitely Active - swung at him, and he tried to think of a way out of the situation that wouldn't completely blow his paper thin over. He wanted to  _be_  Tsuna's Guardian before anyone, including Reborn, figured out that he was a Mist and sent him away. (The deception also pleased his Misty soul, allowed him to suppress the urge to prank  _everyone_ , and wouldn't interfere with harmonisation; if a Sky accepted a Guardian it didn't matter what Flame type they had, and all the better for a Mist if their Sky accepted them, masks and all.)

“You do know that Mukuro is a singularly poor example of a Mist don’t you, Kyoya? He’s very much in the vein of the ‘official’ First Vongola Mist, but that’s not how a mentally-stable Mist behaves, or uses their Flames.” The Cloud cocked his head, pausing in his attack long enough for him to heal the already inflicted bruises and to reinforce his bones (someone had definitely taught the older teen how to fight, but he suspected whoever it was was either a Storm or another Cloud; the Prefect had Mist Flames, fairly strong, but he fought entirely physically). He blocked the next blow and sighed. “You’re a Mist too. Almost as strong a one as you are a Cloud.”

Kyoya  _hissed_  and shook his head, and he laughed, and tugged on the Prefect’s Gakuran, spinning him around. “Mist Flames don’t have to be about illusions; Shamal’s a Mist, and he can barely create them. He much prefers to use other tricks, and you had noticed he’s my mentor, hadn’t you?”  

Cloud Flames danced along the length of the tonfa, and he barely dodged the next blow - which cracked the wall that he used Flames to shove the Prefect towards - and rolled his own eyes. “Okay. Done with this.” He ducked under the tonfa and slammed a hand coated in Mist Flames into Kyoya’s chest. “Perhaps this is playing dirty, but if you’d hit me with that last blow, you’d have put me in hospital.” The Cloud collapsed over his arm, and he heaved the teen over his shoulder. Now where to take Kyoya; their conversation would need privacy, he suspected. The Reception Room would do, he supposed, even if it was the Cloud’s personal Territory.

(Despite what he’d implied, he was perfectly capable of full illusions, and he covered the two of them with one. The Cloud’s Rage at being seen in a position of weakness would otherwise have been  _spectacular_ , and as much fun as that would be, it would be a  _distraction_.)

He confiscated the tonfa, flushed the remainder of the sakura-kura disease he’d reactivated from the Prefect’s system (he’d snarl at Shamal later; the man had sworn up and down that he’d cured Kyoya), and took a careful step back from the Cloud, lest he come up swinging. He took a perch on the desk and waited, semi-patiently, for Kyoya to rouse.

" _Mist_."

"Not this again, Kyoya. The only reason I'm not openly a Mist is because what sort of  _competent_  Mist proclaims their Flame-type to all and sundry; it's like being a Slytherin in the Harry Potter books. Gauche, and profoundly idiotic, and leads to people taking precautions based on Daemon Spade." The Cloud raised an eyebrow at him. "And fuck it, I'm a Mist and being curious is practically a requirement. Who trained you? They've completely ignored half your Flames; you've got the potential to be a ranged fighter as well as close-combat, and ..." he threw up his hands at the blank look on Kyoya's face. "You're self-taught."

"For the Flames the faux-toddler calls Cloud, yes; for my tonfa, my 'uncle', who is like the faux-toddler, and just as irritating."

He blinked, and reran the Prefect's words. "Your uncle is  _Fon_?!"

The name did  _something_  to goad the Cloud into action, and he's not ashamed to admit that he yelped at the speed at which the older teen moved. "Do not mention his name again, if you wish to live, Kitsune." The words are delivered in a harsh whisper, half an inch from his ear, and he's not sure Kyoya has realised just how compromising this position would look from the door. He's flat on his back, a well-muscled arm pressed against his throat.

"Uh. I'll return in an hour, Chairman." He thumped his head back against the desk. He'd completely missed the sound of the door opening, and from the snarl from the Cloud's throat, he'd also missed it. At least it had only been Kusakabe, who was Lightning-loyal to Kyoya, and unlikely to share his secrets.

"You know your pet Lightning is assuming your cock is buried in my arse, Kyoya." He made the statement matter of fact, but his Flames were already wriggling beneath his skin, and he cursed his subconscious as he realised he felt  _damp_. That was one of the  _downsides_  to being a Mist; even if it made his personal preferences far easier on his body, it felt fucking weird when his Flames started modifying his anatomy based on his subconscious desires! "And you may as well be hung for the sheep as for the lamb."

His idiom almost goes over the head of the Cloud, but then he sees Kyoya's eyes light, and he barely suppresses his snicker. "You're  _propositioning_  me?"

"Mist."

"Thought that wasn't an answer."

"I've known I was primarily homosexual since I hit puberty and my mentor  _is_  Shameless Shamal." He arches slightly, and Kyoya's hips jerk in response to the contact between their cloth-covered cocks. "Is that a satisfactory answer, and sufficient for me to get fucked? You've pinned me to a desk after getting my adrenaline pumping, and have wound me up so far that my Flames have created a lovely slick hole for your cock." There's another jerk of Kyoya's hips, and the indication of some loss of control from the Cloud is rather ... pleasing. If he had his hands, he'd pull him down into a kiss, and oh - he'd face-palm in a different situation. He was a Mist. He didn't  _need_  hands.

"What the  _fuck_?!" He does allow himself to grin; sure, he was going to bottom this time, but that didn't mean he was going to keep spreading his legs for Kyoya, no matter how pretty the other teen's cock was. His Flames tease at Kyoya's body, and the Cloud shudders under their influence.

"You said it, Kyoya. I'm a Mist. Mukuro is ... uncreative in his applications of his own Flames, and as you've got a cock, which means other than removing you as an obstacle, Shamal has no interest in demonstrating entertaining uses of Mist Flames for you. Now. Want me to do something about the clothes in the way of you sinking your cock into my flesh?" There's a moment of hesitation, and he takes that as intrigued consent, and shapes his Mist Flames into the mimicry of Storm Flames that he'd practised endlessly whilst he was still an independent Hitman. The clothes dissolve into apparent nothingness (it's not disintegration; he can call them back  _whole_ , where a true Storm couldn't) and there's an incoherent sound from the older teen who was still pinning him to the desk as their cocks brush against each other.

A good incoherent sound, he decides, given the way Kyoya's hips jerk when he lifts his own, stroking his cock against the Cloud's, but there's still enough confusion in Kyoya's eyes that - fuck. He has a virgin on his hands, in addition, he'd never had a Cloud, but he'd heard rumors about the way they lost control when they fucked, and the idea of that happening with Kyoya sent a very pleasant shiver up his spine. And at least he was hard to damage when his Flames got involved in sex?

He chooses neither to ask about Kyoya's experience in using his cock, nor about his knowledge of anal sex. He wasn't quite human standard when he was horny anyway, and he could prevent most of the common forms of damage when receiving.

His own cock slaps against his belly and he wriggles and resorts to using his Mist flames to shift his balls sufficiently out of the way to allow Kyoya's cock to rest against the slick opening they had created. He sighs in relief when Kyoya makes another involuntary movement and he's taken by an entirely adequately sized cock (which his Flames quickly adjust his body to take maximum advantage of).

"What did you do, Kitsune?" the question is murmured and he pulls a face and tenses around the very welcome intruder, experimenting to see what his subconscious had decided he needed from their liaison. The ripple of pleasurable sensation from squeezing around a solid cock made it clear that his Flames were expecting him to do most of the work but that's okay; he has a virgin and a Cloud over him, and he has more experience and more self-control.

"I'm a Mist. This is, I presume, entirely meant to be about pleasure and my Flames have just made sure that it will be." He squeezes again and the Cloud's hips jerk. "Keep shifting  _just_  like that, Kyoya. You could even move a little faster and thrust a little harder." He's tempted to try and roll them both over, so he could take a little more control, but the grip on his wrists was still firm and he rolled his hips and contemplated what else would make things fun for both of them.

His Flames are still hyper-reactive, and they twine around the two of them and his ass twitches as his Flames fuck into it, cramming his own body full. They also probe at Kyoya looking for sensitive spots, but when they brush over his asshole there's a snarled, "Out-of-bounds, herbivore."

"And there I was thinking that you'd decided I was a kitsune, Kyoya-koi." The Cloud freezes, the back-sass and the affectionate suffix apparently too much for him, and he frees his hands from Kyoya's grip, and buries them in the older teen's hair and rocks himself on the cock in his slit, his body milking it, and he wonders what the fuck his Flames have in store for him next.

"Fuck." Kyoya's hips piston, ramming his cock in and out of his slit, and his Flames coat his own cock, massaging it, and he bites the inside of his cheek and surfs the pleasure, fighting to remain aware and vaguely in control of his Flames. There's a sharp bite, and a hissed "Kitsune," and his abdomen cramps, and what on earth - and the pleasure recedes and then returns even more overwhelming until he's clinging onto his sanity by his fingertips, and wondering what fucking Kyoya Hibari would be like when the Cloud knew what he was doing with his cock. The older teen collapses over him, his cock slipping free of the tight sheath his Mist had created for it, and he's a little disconcerted that he doesn't drip, but it's not the weirdest thing his body has done. (After all it had  _created_  the sheath in the first place.) "Fucking Mist." The words don't have any venom in them, and he lets himself pet Kyoya's hair.

"Want to keep doing this, Kyoya? I'd much rather be called into your lair to fuck than fight, and apparently  _someone_  needs to teach you how to use your fucking Flames. They could be so much  _fun_  to play with -" he's shut up with a sharp bite to the throat, and he barks a laugh. "Message heard loud and clear, Kyoya. I far prefer this sort of biting to death ..."


End file.
